


Exploit

by suse



Series: Inception Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: A dash of jealousy, Accidental Voyeurism, Clothed Sex, Inception Bingo, Inception Bingo 2020, M/M, Suits, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suse/pseuds/suse
Summary: Arthur accidentally walks in on Eames having sex. But was it really an accident?
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception), Eames (Inception)/Other(s)
Series: Inception Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872580
Kudos: 48
Collections: Inception Trope/Kink Bingo 2020





	Exploit

**Author's Note:**

> For the bingo square: Endytophilia (clothed sex).

Arthur is just getting back to his hotel room from a nice lay, still smelling like smoke and cheap rum, when he hears the sounds of a skirmish coming from Eames’s. There’s thumping sounds in the adjoining room and a man screaming, loudly. Arthur says some very bad words and takes his Glock out of his suitcase again. 

When he enters the room, he lowers his gun immediately. Eames is sitting in a large velvet wingback chair, wearing an expensive suit, polished shoes and a smile.

There’s also a hot, naked guy seated on his exposed cock. 

Arthur’s mouth falls open. “Eames!” he bellows, indignantly. “What the -”

Eames nods to Arthur, but keeps bouncing the man on his lap, driving him to despondent moans. The man is looking at Arthur with wide eyes, clearly considering if fleeing naked through an expensive hotel would be better than enduring Arthurs withering stare. 

“Eames,” Arthur says again, tight lipped. “Your friend is alerting the hotel and the entire city of Rotterdam to our existence. Perhaps you can wait with the loud sex until we’re in the clear?”  
The guy, apparently having resigned himself to the situation, has dropped his head into Eames’ neck and lets himself get fucked. Arthur’s got a front row view. He can’t help but notice how the guy looks. Slender, dark hair, and pale, unmarked skin - him and Arthur could be brothers. 

“I can’t help you’ve got bat hearing, Arthur,” Eames says, annoyingly unruffled. “Can you leave? I’ve got my hands quite full, as you can see.” 

“Just keep it down,” snaps Arthur, and leaves. 

When he gets to his room, he has a furious wank imagining himself riding Eames, caressing the soft wool of his suit and - to his horror - kissing him. He doesn’t fall asleep, after. 

\- 

The next day is awkward. For Arthur, at least. Eames is behaving as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Arthur is exhausted and still cruising on a mix of confused horniness and brooding anger. 

At lunch, he can’t take it anymore. He corners Eames at the coffee machine and flat-out asks him, “Who was that?”

“Who was who, darling?” says Eames, apparently not realizing that Arthur will kill him, fuck him or kill him by fucking him if he keeps up being annoying. 

“Who was the guy you were fucking last night,” Arthur says between clenched teeth. He can feel Yusuf’s eyes piercing his back. 

“No one of importance, Arthur, just some company for stress release,” Eames says lightly. “Just like you sought someone out last night, and many times before on jobs.” 

So Eames noticed that. Arthur did not intend for that to happen, but he can never get anything past Eames. 

“At least I keep work and my personal life separate,” says Arthur. “Bringing your fucks to our shared hotel is very irresponsible.”

“You want to talk responsibility?” says Eames, hotly. “Going to the seediest bars all by yourself, dressing like you’re twenty, going home with motor gang leaders and cage fighters, that’s not irresponsible?” 

Apparently, Eames has been keeping track. 

“That’s none of your concern,” Arthur snaps. “You know I can handle myself. And we’re talking about you, not me.” He gives Eames a fierce look. “I never want to walk into such a scene ever again. It’s disgusting and a possible threat for the team.” 

“Whatever,” says Eames bluntly, and walks out. 

-

That night, Arthur doesn’t go out. Not because of Eames, of course. He just is not in the mood. He lies in bed, fully awake, listening for sounds from the room next to his. 

It’s quiet for a long time. Around ten, he hears the door open and close, and the sound of ice cubes clinking in a glass. Eames must have asked the guy over again and is seemingly fixing him a drink. He’s probably in his suit again, Arthur realizes, getting ready to take out his cock. 

For a few moments, Arthur debates his next actions. But when he hears a bottle being opened, he does not even think before jumping out of bed, putting on sweatpants and barging over to Eames’ room barefooted and boiling with fury. 

However, when he throws open the door, no one is there but Eames, sitting in the wingback chair with a glass of whisky. 

“Where is he,” says Arthur.

“Where is who?” asks Eames.

“I’m not playing this game with you again. Where is he, did you hide him, or are you waiting for him?” says Arthur, getting angrier by the second. “You’re wearing that suit again, aren’t you?”

“You noticed,” says Eames. The suit looks decadent and perverse on him, now that Arthur has seen Eames having sex in it. 

“It was kind of hard not to,” says Arthur. 

“I do know your penchant for suits,” says Eames. “Whisky?” He gets up and offers Arthur another glass sitting on a side-table.

“How - “ says Arthur. “That glass is for -” 

“For you,” says Eames. “I was waiting for you.” 

“If you think I’m going to fuck you on that chair wearing that suit, you're out of your mind,” says Arthur, glaring at Eames. 

Eames sits down in the chair again. He looks very dashing in the suit, Arthur notices. 

“You didn’t go out tonight,” Eames says. “Didn’t feel like it?” 

“Not at all,” Arthur says. He’s still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, feeling exposed in his sweatpants. 

“How did it make you feel, to see me like that yesterday?” asks Eames. 

Arthur frowns. “I thought it was shameless, and repellent, and thoughtless.” He thinks back to it, to the guy, spread out onto Eames, legs wide, hands clenching the armrests. “I don’t understand you.” 

“I am a very easy man to understand,” says Eames. 

“Explain yourself then.” 

“I want things that I cannot have, so i make do with reproductions,” Eames says, sipping his drink. 

“That man looked like me,” Arthur says.

“Not enough,” says Eames. 

“Stop manipulating me,” says Arthur, irked. 

“Fine,” says Eames. “I would like to fuck you on this chair while wearing this suit.”

“Fine,” sighs Arthur. 

-

Eames takes off the suit, after. He wraps Arthur and himself in a blanket and they share a whisky while watching Tel Sell on the hotel TV. 

“Why the suit?” asks Arthur. 

“Thought you’d like it,” says Eames. “You hate my other clothes.” 

“I do not,” Arthur says, accidentally. “I do like the suit, though.”

Eames grins. “I know, darling.”


End file.
